After the Storm
by Ljaffe19
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry no longer has a prophecy hanging over his head. This is what happened next for Harry and how not even Phoenix tears can mend some wounds but how some connections formed are stronger than Fiendfyre. Follow Harry and Hermione as they navigate the world after Tom and their relationships. Canon-compliant. Will be Mature later in story.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own no rights to Harry Potter, all credit for it goes to JKR.

Chapter One:

By the time the sun had set, Harry had found his way back to his four-poster bed and fell into it. The confrontation with Tom Riddle felt like a lifetime or two ago, not mere hours. Harry had spent those hours shaking hands and pasting a smile on his face. He had searched the crowd for a sea of red and found it, but then the tides pushed him along until he had been congratulated no less than forty-two times. Harry sighed and pushed his glasses up the crook of his nose until he could see clearly again. Then he closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, counted to three, exhaled and hoped for sleep to overtake him.

"When did you get up here?"

The voice startled him, and he quickly sat up to peer in the general direction it could be heard from. Standing tall over the left-hand corner of his bed stood Ron and next to him, trying to hide the fact that their hands were intertwined, Hermione. She flushed slightly but maintained eye contact with Harry and, if he looked closely, appeared to wrap her fingers around Ron's even more tightly.

"A few minutes ago, your mum kept telling me I looked wretched, so I figured I'd come kip up here for a while."

"Well, you do look dreadful, Harry."

"Thanks, Hermione, I hadn't noticed", Harry replied, trying to keep the snark out of his voice. He must not have succeeded since Ron scowled a bit but chose to bite his tongue. Harry thought he should count his blessings on that one. Hermione continued to stare at him as though he hadn't just reprimanded her.

"Do you think you'll tell Kingsley what really happened in the forest?", she asked.

For the second time in nearly as many minutes, Harry sighed and attempted to breathe in and count to ten. When that failed, he simply turned his head and replied, "No. I think that should stay between us. And Dumbledore. Well, his portrait anyway. Does that count?" Ron looked as if he was going to say something but a quick shove in the ribs from Hermione had him silenced. Harry stared, seeing as he'd never seen Ron so silent.

"What gives?"

Ron appeared to pause, or that could have just been him catching his breath from the elbow he had recently received. Ron started, stopped, started again and then flung himself onto the corner of Harry's bed. Harry, not being in the mood for dramatics, which was saying something he figured, asked again, "What gives?"

"I think, well, I think you should talk to my sister", Ron mumbled. Harry should have expected this. He knew that he had time to talk to her, but at the same time, he felt a ripple of fear go through him. They had talked about what it meant to be separate for the year, albeit briefly. Harry hadn't met any Veela and he hoped that she hadn't taken up with any of Dumbledore's Army. By the way she had shut Cho down, he assumed there must be something there. But how does one go about saying 'Sorry that I died, and your brother died, and a lot of our close friends died too, but could we talk about our feelings?'. No, Harry decided. There would be time for that but that time was not now.

"I think that you should let it be for now. Love isn't exactly in the air is it?", but as Harry said that, he noticed a deep flush across Hermione's neck this time and was sure he was not imagining it. Then, just as suddenly, she too flung herself onto Harry's bed and began crying softly into Ron's shoulder as she began to shake. Harry turned and saw his best mate turn pale and look at Harry as though he were Nearly-Headless Nick. Then Harry remembered Fred and a sinking sensation started in his chest and began to spread down to his stomach. He felt his stomach clench and unclench and guilt about the words he had just spoken seemed to make it roll. "Look, Ron, Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm happy for you two and I think.. I think Fred would be, too. I think I actually owe him two galleons now that I think about it."

Ron almost snorted and then seemed to remember that Fred wouldn't be here to collect it and instead put his forehand in his palms and closed his eyes. Harry wondered if he knew about the wager but decided that Ron didn't; he was too thick to notice Hermione for almost five years, how would he know about a betting pool?

A comfortable silence descended on the friends, a silence that would have been uncomfortable for anyone who hadn't battled a troll together, made illicit potions together, slept in cabins scrounging for mushrooms together, and who hadn't watched their friends die together. As the minutes stretched on, Harry wondered if Hermione had fallen asleep until she quietly said, "You're right, you know. You do owe Fred two galleons" and with that, she stood up, walked to the end of the room and said goodnight to the boys.

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Hermione made her way from the boys' dormitory to the common room. She thought about going up to sleep but didn't think she could sleep now. Her mind raced despite her body screaming for rest after almost two days straight of adrenaline. She knew about the wager started before their fifth year, made during the summer at Grimmauld Place. It had been Ginny who said to the twins, when she thought Hermione was off with Harry, but had in fact, stormed away from the boys due to Harry's dreadful moping, who overhead them. Ginny had wagered that Ron would make a move by the end of the year, convinced that Ron had noticed Hermione was now, in fact, female. George had laughed and said that despite two very obvious reasons, in which Hermione seemed to shrink even more away from the doorway, 'Ickle-Ronnikins' would need to get hit in the head with a few more bludgers before he struck up the courage. It became a running joke amongst the Weasley's, although Hermione pretended that she didn't know. Just before Bill's wedding, she could have sworn that she heard Bill cough 'pay up' to one of the twins but thought she might have imagined it. Now it wasn't twins, it was simply twin. How does a word that means two suddenly become one?

She realized that she was sitting in an armchair and hadn't even realized that she wasn't alone. She looked up and saw two brown eyes staring directly into hers with such intenstity that she looked away.

"Ginny, I didn't see you there", she murmured. How rude of her. What does one say exactly to someone she hasn't seen in almost a year? Whose brother just died and whose boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, she had ran off with? Granted, it wasn't really running off, but the facts remained.

Ginny seemed to pause, as if thinking how to ask something but then thought better of it and turned towards the fire and replied, "It's okay. I was just thinking of mum".

"How's she managing?" and Hermione kicked herself for asking such an insensitive question. Instead of replying, Ginny just turned back to Hermione and stared again. Hermione began to steel herself to prepare to be there for her friend, to ignore the fact that her boyfriend, her BOYFRIEND, was upstairs right now barely able to stand upright, and that she couldn't get the image of Molly's Boggart at Grimmauld place, which had turned into a horrid reality, out of her mind. Instead Ginny answered, "Better than I thought. I think she figured with seven of us, she's lucky to make it out with six."

Hermione didn't know what to respond so positioned herself closer to Ginny. "I know that this must be hard for your family." Ginny froze. Hermione feared that she had said something wrong and began thinking about the five stages of grief and which one Ginny might be in at this moment. Instead, Ginny replied "You're family, too." And this time, it was Hermione that time seemed to stand still for. She began to think of her own parents then quickly forced herself into thinking about the required elements of non-verbal transfigurations. After all, thinking about the seventh year curriculum distracted her all those nights in the tent.

Ginny turned away and seemed to understand Hermione's need for silence, even if she couldn't understand about Hermione's own parents. After all, no one but Ron and Harry (they had always been _Ron_ and Harry to her) knew about the Grangers sudden desire to start a practice in Sydney. Tears began to roll down Hermione's cheeks, as she felt all the things she hadn't allowed herself to feel for the past two days catch up to her. A sob escaped and Ginny quickly had her arms around her, and Hermione just cried. She cried about the lack of a plural for the word twin and she cried thinking about how many dentist offices there must be in Sydney. She also cried because she didn't know what the Charms syllabus would have in the winter term and feared she wouldn't ever find out or that it wouldn't matter.

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Harry was glad that Ron had finally gotten into his own bed and that the two had fallen into this time, an uneasy silence, while he waited for sleep to claim him. He wondered where Neville, Dean, and Seamus were and hoped that wherever they were, in this castle or at a clean train station somewhere, that they were happy. Harry wondered if his dreams would really be his own tonight. He then wondered if they had ever really been his own at all. He rolled over and willed himself not to think of Horcruxes for the first night in over a year, and sleep came to him.

Almost just as suddenly, he opened his eyes to a plate of sandwiches sitting next to hit bed on a stool. He grabbed his glasses and looked around the room. It was empty and suddenly Harry felt very alone. He saw a sock on the floor and missed Dobby, brave and kind Dobby who died a free elf. He heard a snore and thought of the Weasley's and wondered what would happen to Fred's hand on the clock. He thought of Remus' words to him about making the world a better place for Teddy and Harry thought, with a pang, that he'd have to be the one to tell Teddy about the good man Remus was while acknowledging the flaws he carried. Just as James was once arrogant, he became selfless and had died for his family, Remus had been afraid of being a father, but laid his life on the line to create a wold in which his son would grow. Thinking that his thoughts were terrible company, Harry got out of bed and decided that it was time to return the Elder Wand to the white tomb.

He quickly dressed himself and sighed as he realized that Molly Weasley was right and that he did look dreadful. He mentally reminded himself to apologize to Hermione for the night before and made his way out of his dorm room. No one was in the common room and judging by the soft light that streamed through, it was still early. Harry quickly tossed the invisibility cloak around him, or as Ron had come to call it, his security blanket. He made his way through the castle and tried to keep his eyes on his feet. One foot in front of the other, so he could ignore the stains around him. There were red stains and green stains (what color was Acromantula blood anyway?), stones and splintered wood. Harry kept walking, refusing to see the damage that befell the first home he ever really knew. He remembered the first time that he stood in the entry hall waiting to be sorted. Ron had mumbled something about a troll and Harry thought he would be chucked out of Hogwarts. Maybe he should have been chucked out then. Maybe then the castle wouldn't be in pieces. He shook his head to clear those thoughts away. Just as he had promised his friends that he had time to talk to Ginny, he knew there would be time to stew in his guilt. Right now, he had to return the wand to its rightful resting place.

As he crossed the lawn, he was relieved to note that there were no bodies sprawled on the grass. Although, once again, there were red stains throughout the pathway and the gravel was upturned. He approached the cracked white marble tomb and paused. Maybe he wasn't ready for this. Maybe he should have waited for Ron and Hermione. At this point, they felt more like limbs than friends, as if they were a part of him even when he couldn't seem to shake them. His heart began to race and he started to count the beats, thankful that there would be many more this time that he counted. He turned to head back to the castle, thinking that he couldn't do this alone, and as he turned around he stumbled because Ginny was standing right there.

Harry froze. Her red hair cascaded down her shoulders and the freckles on her face had seemed to multiply in the year apart. Her jawline was more defined and her shoulders slightly straighter. Harry wondered when she learned to stand so rigid, when he realized that he wasn't ready for this conversation and surely wasn't ready to ask. He began to panic and quickly attempted to brush by her to get back inside.

Walking past her, he heard her say "I know you're there, Harry. I have the map." He stopped and stood with his back to her only a few meters away. He turned around and realized she was still staring at the tomb. Not the most romantic of places, he thought wryly. Then remembered that it was here, a year ago, that he had broken up with her and how his heart had felt wrenched from his chest. It felt like borrowed time with her and he realized with a start that it _was_ borrowed time. Every minute of his life had been borrowed and he had meant to pay it back but it was not his to give. He slowly removed the cloak from his head and said her name just once and softly. He wasn't sure that she heard.

Ginny turned to face him and despite the slightly drawn look in her eyes, the way she held her left hand to her side tightly, the corners of her mouth began to turn upwards. Harry had known she was beautiful. He knew it the moment he had seen her snogging Dean, perhaps he had noticed it even before then. But he had never noticed how drawn he was to her. His eyes searched her face, hungrily drinking in the sight of the curve of her neck, the slight wave to her hair, the thirty-nine (and yes he had counted at one point) freckles that looked like stars across her face.

She must have noticed he was staring because her lips turned into a smirk and Harry suddenly noticed the leaves in the tree about thirty feet to her left and looked very interestedly at the branches. He then mentally kicked himself for not showering. In fact, he also started silently berating himself for not cutting his hair, for not changing his clothes, for not eating breakfast since he felt slightly queasy-

"Did you happen to meet any Veela this year?" Her voice rang out and he started, looking back at her face. Could she mean this, he wondered. Could she pretend the last year hadn't happened? No, the girl he knew would know that this year happened, and would respect why it had to have happened. Without obeying him, his feet pulled him forward until he was just a meter from her and he replied, "I saw Fleur at your brother's cottage. Does that count?"

Ginny laughed. Laughter, it sounded almost like she was speaking fluent Italian, it sounded so foreign to him. He barked out a short laugh in reply. Was she laughing at him? Or worse, what if she thought-

"There's the silver lining I was looking for" and once again, Ginny Weasley managed to render all thoughts in his head useless.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own no rights to Harry Potter, all goes to JKR.

Chapter Two:

Hermione woke suddenly and sat up quickly, gasping for air. She tried to make sense of her surroundings and then as if petrified, remembered the forty-eight hours that occurred prior to her finally sleeping. She recalled sobbing on Ginny last night and how Ginny has escorted her to Ginny's own dorm and let her sleep in an empty bed. Hermione wondered if the bed was empty because the girl didn't return to Hogwarts in a literal sense or worse, didn't return to Hogwarts in a metaphorical sense. Hermoine once again began to think about the ways in which to identify an Animagus and began practicing the incantation in her mind. Spell-work and theory eased her anxieties considerably.

If she was tightly wound prior to spending a year in a tent, starving, with only Ron and Harry for company, she might as well have been brittle iron by now. The twins had been some of the only ones other than Ron and Harry who could loosen her up. Once again, her mind stumbled over the plural of twins. How was George doing this morning? Where was George? What would they do with Fred's body? How did wizard funerals differ from Muggle ones? To others, Hermione knew she came across as a know it all. The truth is, she truly did want to know it all. The sorting hat had wavered on Ravenclaw for a reason. But then, as it murmured in her ear, wasn't knowledge useless without the practical part? What good was knowing everything if you couldn't use it. This same rationale had helped found Dumbledore's Army but had also grated against Ron the past seven years.

Ron. Ronald Billius Weasley. Oh, what a dreadful middle name and she still didn't understand wizarding needs for alliterative family names, but there was no Weasley in the world that mattered to her as much as Ron did. She smiled slightly at the way he had kissed her and the gentleness in his eyes as they listened to Harry tell them about the Horcrux inside of him. If Hermione was brittle iron, then Ron was the fire that shaped her.

She began to get out of bed and ready for the day. As Hermione made her way to the washroom, she realized with a start that she could shower for as long as she wanted and had no one to hide from. Her pace quickened.

One hour and fifteen minutes later, Hermione made her way to the common room and saw that some people were up. There was no sign of Ron, but Percy, Charlie, and Bill stood talking quietly with Mr. Weasley. Hermoine looked for Harry and wondered if perhaps the boys had gone to get food. She began to make her way to the portrait when she heard her name being called out. As she turned, she saw that it was Percy.

"Have you seen Ron?" he wondered.

"No, I was wondering that myself, actually. How are you doing? How are you all doing? I'm so sorry for your loss", she replied and felt burning in her throat and her vision began to blue. _Hold it together_ , she reminded herself. This was not about her, this was about their brother. Their son.

The Weasley's simply nodded and began to resume their conversation about Fred.

"Molly wants it to be a formal affair, but I don't know if that's what Fred would have wanted", Arthur murmured. Hermione had never seen Mr. Weasley so downtrodden. He seemed to be almost whispering, as if the very act of speaking Fred's name would blow him away.

Bill spoke up in agreement, "He… he always said that he wanted people laughing. Do you know if George… had any idea what his wishes were?"

"Probably, but I doubt he'd tell us right now", Charlie replied.

Percy stood quietly observing. Hermione wondered if he had called her over to not feel so alone with his family. Hermione quietly spoke, "I don't think F..Fred was one for traditions. I think you're right, Mr. Weasley."

He looked as though he was surprised to see Hermione was there, despite speaking to her only minutes ago. Bill, Charlie and Percy nodded in agreement and made sounds of affirmation. Hermione cleared her throat, "Please let me know if there's anything I can do to help at all. Fred and George, well… anything I can do to help, I will". Once again, Mr. Weasley could only look at her with shock on his face. Bill cleared his throat. Charlie started looking at Hermione and then back at Bill quickly. What was going on, she began to wonder.

"Hermione, you've already done more than enough. I lost one brother yesterday but if you and Ron and Harry hadn't done whatever it is you had to do, I might have lost them all", Bill said gently.

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Harry was walking next to Ginny back up to the castle. They weren't speaking but Harry didn't even know if he would know what to say if he tried. He pointedly looked at his trainers and grimaced at the grime that coated them. He thought that once he got home, he'd need to buy some new trainers. Harry suddenly stopped walking because this thought gave him two big problems. Firstly, he had no home to return to. Surely not Privet Drive and Grimmauld Place might be hexed to the ground by now. Secondly, even if he had somewhere to go, in what world would he be able to buy anything? He'd ridden a dragon through the roof of his bank.

Ginny had continued walking for a few steps before realizing that Harry had stopped. She turned around with a question on her lips but before she could ask, Harry said, "I'm sorry, I just realized that I have no idea where I'm going". His eyes began to water and shame began to fill him. How could he cry right now in front of Ginny, who never cried? Also, Fred just died. Colin, Remus, Tonks, Lavender, and so many others had died because he wasn't fast enough, wasn't smart enough, had based his planning around the assumption that he was the hero of the story, meant to survive. What horseshit.

As if reading his thoughts, Ginny moved to stand next to Harry again and said, "You're going to come to the Burrow. Mum will feed you until you're three sizes bigger. You're not going back to those Muggles." Harry felt his lips turn upward and began wondering what else he could be doing with them. He turned to Ginny and licked his lips and put one of his hands on her shoulder.

Ginny smiled at him but then, tactfully, side-stepped from his grasp, turned forward and somehow managed to align him in the same direction and kept walking. Harry stumbled after her wondering if he was reading the signs right. He should have known better than to try to kiss her now, not after Fred, not after Hogwarts bled. At the same time, she seemed to be as interested in him as he was in her. She found him didn't she?

Harry shook his head and thought that understanding Ginny might be less favorable than battling Death Eaters. Ginny mumbled almost so quietly that Harry had to turn his head to hear, "It's not that I don't want to. I've missed you so much. It's just… you left, Harry. I knew you had to and I managed to convince everyone here that I was single. I didn't want anyone else, there isn't anyone else for me, but I don't know if I'm ready for you to be for me yet, either". It felt like someone hit him with a blood-chilling curse.

"Of, of course, Ginny", sounded like a reasonable response, didn't it? Then, casting wildly to change the subject, "Do you think your mum would mind if I kipped in Ron's room? His snoring is practically the only thing that lets me fall asleep these days". Ginny snorted softly and looked at him with a small smile.

"Ron's room? Mum practically made it a shrine to you last year, I think she even tried to convince the ghoul to wear a green sweater at one point. It was almost a step up for Ron, really."

This time it was Harry who snorted. She continued, "You're practically like the seventh son to them. You're family."

If he felt like a blood chilling curse had hit him before, this felt like an entrails-repelling curse aimed at his kidneys. Family, he thought weakly. Does _she_ view me as family?

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Hermione was waiting in the Great Hall for supper to be served. Tomorrow morning, she and Harry would go back to the Burrow with the Weasley's. In another two days' time, they would lay Fred to rest and she would then be tasked with going to Sydney to find her parents. Hermione hoped that Ron would be able to join her but she didn't think he'd be able to leave his family behind or worse, explain to them why he wanted to go with her but not Harry, too. She cringed slightly at the upcoming conversation with the matriarch of the Weasley clan about how she and Ron had shared a tent for almost a year. Would she believe her when she said that nothing had happened? Sure, she had glanced a peek while he was changing once but when that prat had stormed out before the holiday, Hermione had willed herself to forget what she had seen. She just remembered that she liked it.

With that, she felt a slight pressure above her knee and turned to see Ron smiling at her.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Oh, just about how I'll manage to bring my parents back", she replied absently.

"What do you mean 'how you'll bring your parents back'", he demanded.

Harry must have kicked him under the table because he grunted and looked a bit sheepish. Harry looked at her with eyes that seemed to say 'I'm sorry that he's so daft' then he continued to drink his pumpkin juice and glance at Ginny. It was a bit odd that Ginny was sitting two seats away and not by Harry but she'd press Ginny for information later. She rounded on Ron, "I mean that my parents, you know, the ones who gave me life and raised me but don't even remember that I exist, are currently in Australia and I mean to remedy that!" Oh, it was such fun taking out some frustration on him. Especially when he blushed.

Ron mumbled, "I know that, Hermoine. I just didn't want you to go alone. I kind of thought, you know, that maybe someone, I don't know, someone could go with you?"

Harry seemed to have heard and asked, "In English, Ron?"

Ron sighed and said more clearly this time, "I thought that we could go together. I don't want you to have to do this alone".

Hermoine felt as if her heart would burst. This was why it was always _Ron_ and Harry. Oh, Harry was such a noble git that he'd never let her go alone either, but Ron, he wanted to be there. He wanted to be with her. She found it adorable that his cheeks were almost the same color as his ears. When she felt her eyes water, Ron quickly grabbed a napkin and handed it to her. She was so glad that the twins had given him that bloody book about charming witches. The twins. Almost as quickly as her heart filled, she felt it began to crack.

In two days, they would be burying a twin. A singular twin. She turned to Harry and asked, "Do you think they'd cover disillusionment charms in Defense Against the Dark Arts or Charms?"

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Harry awoke for the second morning in a row with no nightmares. This puzzled him almost as much as having nightmares, but he decided that sheer exhaustion had run out. Or maybe Mrs. Weasley had drugged him with a calming drought in the hot chocolate he had just before bed. He figured he'd ask Ron about it when he woke up. Suddenly, he heard a rustling to his left. Harry began to steel himself for what he might see if he drew back the curtains around his four-poster bed.

"Oi, some of us might be trying to sleep in here", Harry said.

"Oh really, Harry, as if you'd actually sleep in on a day like today. You probably just woke up and are wondering why I'm in this bed. For your information, I was just coming in to tell you both that the Porkey will be leaving in an hour. Get your mind out of the gutter", came a shrill reply that could only mean one thing. Harry decided to play dumb and pretend that Hermione had not just read his mind. His mind. His mind was finally his own. Would Voldemort have thought about his best friends having sex? Harry shuddered and drew the curtain.

"I actually thought it was Seamus", Harry lied, "I figured he might have come back here with a girl."

"Hmmph" was the only response he got. Ron looked a little more disheveled than typical but then again, he did just lose a brother. And a best friend. And reunited with his long-lost brother. Harry figured he could cut him some slack.

"Actually, I was wondering why Ginny wasn't in here with you? Not that I'd want her to be but you two have barely said three words to each other", Ron answered. Harry decided he couldn't muster up that much sympathy.

"For your information, we had a lovely conversation yesterday morning. But no, she's not up here. I don't even know where she is actually".

Hermione started shifting her eyes between Harry and Ron and Harry's eyes narrowed.

"She said something to you, didn't she?", Harry asked.

"Well. No. Not really anyway. I think you two ought to talk this out. She cares about you deeply, Harry", Hermoine replied. Asked and answered, Harry should have known.

"Oh she cares about me. I think she thinks I'm like a brother to her."

To Hermione's credit, she only looked mildly revolted. Ron on the other hand had jumped up and began pretending to gag. Although, as Harry peered over the rims of his glasses, maybe he really was gagging.

"That's bloody disgusting! That can't be true", Ron said when he finally managed to catch his breath. Harry didn't bother replying since they hadn't spoken since yesterday morning on the lawn. He'd replayed the conversation over and over in his mind and he figured it was either she wasn't ready to be with him, she didn't want to be with him, or she was into incest and battling the deep repressed feelings of disgust that came with that. Harry felt all three possibilities were likely and didn't feel like hearing Hermione discuss them at length.

"We'll talk in a few days. I think that I'd rather just support her, and you, mind you, get through the next couple of days", Harry replied.

Ron started to slowly sit back on his bed and Hermione brought her hand up to his fringe and began combing it out of his eyes. She let her fingers rest in Ron's hair and began twirling some strands in her fingers as she stared off at nothing. Harry was oddly comforted by the gesture. He wondered if Ginny would ever do that to him again. He remembered stolen kisses in the corridors during his sixth year and the way her lips would trace his jawline in the shape of a lightning bolt…

A knock came on the door and it was the voice of Charlie Weasley. "Oi! All you lovebirds in there! Portkey's leaving in twenty minutes and mum will have kittens if you aren't on it."

Harry sighed and stood up and debated if he had time for a shower or not. He settled for a quick charm to clean the clothes piled on the floor next to his bed and he headed into the washroom to get ready for the day. As he closed the door, he heard sniffling noises and didn't know if they were coming from Ron or Hermione.

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The Burrow stood in the distance, looking like a gust of wind might topple it over. The atmosphere in the yard was tense and Harry tried to not think about all those that lay with eyes that wouldn't see again. For some reasons, his thoughts kept returning to Severus Snape. He wanted to forgive the man, really, he did, but the resentment he felt for Professor Snape couldn't be undone. Harry prodded his feelings and was able to acknowledge that while he respected the Professor's bravery, he also could not get past the way he had treated students. Not just Harry, either. He remembered that Neville's greatest fear in third year was Professor Snape and Neville wasn't the product of his deepest love and his greatest enemy. This gave Harry pause. Since Professor Snape knew of the prophecy, was it possible that he loathed Neville for not being Harry? Did he see Neville, the boy who had actually lived, and blamed him for the death of his mum? Despite these troubling thoughts, he felt that at least Severus was at peace now. Maybe his mum would have a few words with him. A small smile crept to his lips when he thought of his mum chewing out the greasy haired Professor. Death doesn't change everything, Harry figured.

The funeral would be in a few hours, in the early afternoon. Since the return to the Burrow, Molly had retreated to her bedroom except for meals, which she cooked with a gusto he hadn't seen since the holiday at Grimmauld Place. Then, she feared for her husband's life. Now, she had lost a son. Harry wondered if he should pick up cooking again. If loss was the passion that drove Mrs. Weasley's cooking, Harry could probably feed an army. He snuck a glance at Ginny.

Their relationship currently, and he mentally scoffed at that term, was cordial at best. They seemed to be dancing around one another. Harry didn't have the heart to ask her right now what she had meant before so they maintained polite discussions at mealtimes and Harry, Ron, and Ginny had taken to flying in the orchard with Charlie and Bill. Percy and Hermione were usually debating the merits of something in the grass. Harry wondered if it would be polite to hold her hand at the funeral. Fred had been like a brother to him as well and the thought that George was alone now made Harry want to walk back into the forest and offer to trade places.

George was not at meals. George was upstairs in the room he had shared with Fred almost his entire life and meal trays were left abandoned by the door. Harry had seem him only once in the past few days and that was going to the bathroom. They had almost walked into each other on the landing and George had stared at Harry. He had apologized to George, put his head down, and taken the stairs up to Ron's room two at a time after that. George must blame him. If he was being truthful with himself, he was wondering why the rest of Ron's family wasn't blaming him, either. Harry had brought a battle to them. Yes, they had won and yes, Harry had died trying to end it, but the difference was that Harry came back and Fred hadn't.

He turned and listened to Bill talk about pall-bearers. He vaguely realized that he was meant to be one, standing across from Ron. It would be the five remaining brothers, Harry, and Lee Jordan, from Hogwarts trailing behind escorting Ginny while Mr. Weasley would hold his wife.

Suddenly Bill stopped talking and stared at the back door with his mouth slightly ajar. Harry turned and fingered his wand, afraid for what he'd see but instead he just saw George in bright magenta robes, his hair slicked back almost at bad as Malfoy's, and a bright orange flower pinned to his robes. George strode over to the group of brothers (and Harry, especially since his conversation with Ginny, he had wanted to differentiate himself somehow, brothers in all but blood and that was a crucial difference) and asked, "Where am I supposed to stand?"

Bill seemed to pause for a second and then he just burst out laughing. Charlie followed suit and was laughing so hard he was slapping his knees. Harry even saw Percy's lips twitching and Ron was chuckling as he threw his arm around George.

"Out with a bang, eh?"

George smiled and said, "For this. Fred wouldn't have wanted us moping about in the lawn looking like regular old Garden gnomes. I can at least give my better half the send-off he deserves. Speaking of standing, do you know which direction in the sky we'll be facing?"

Charlie said, "Do we even want to know?" at the same time that Ron asked, "Going to use those wicked firecrackers?"

Bill, ever the eldest told George they'd be facing West. Harry felt his shoulders relax by an inch and hadn't even realized how tense he'd been until everyone had laughed. No, George wasn't okay yet. He wouldn't be okay for awhile, but Harry had to respect the man for pulling it together for this. He also had to agree that somewhere, Fred was probably laughing, most likely with Sirius, at the fact his brother had a flower on his lapel that kept burping every other minute.


End file.
